The End Result (Hiatus)
by Lad Lad
Summary: A man wakes up a heavily modified being with constant flashes to a life (and universe) he never knew. A dragon wakes up a human in a world full of wishes of hope and grandeur. Both may or may not get what they want, but they (and maybe others) will struggle through the very same world that their ancient ally had long since abandoned. Let us see the End Result. (t might change to m)


A gentle breeze caressed his face. Soft winds tickled his cheeks, his eyes fluttering open.. Two bright red irises glowing against the moonlight.

He was outstretched upon a barren plain of grass.. With a simple movement, he got himself up. His mind was.. clouded. He was feeling experiences he had only felt through others... There's a word for that.

"Vicarious.." His accent.. He couldn't place it, himself. It had a foreign **tinge** to it. Once he wasn't sure if he was comfortable with. "To live an ideal life through another.. Adverb. Example. She lived vicariously through her children."

"Identity. The consciousness of all things." He stood at his full height, eyeing his metal . Was he born with them? Was he born? The questions ate at him. But as quickly as they came, he disregarded them. It was inefficient to have such thoughts. "Attire sufficient.. though.."

His bright red orbs, slightly hidden by the frame of somehow armoured glasses, scanned what clung to his exterior. It was a simple grey coat with small plate-armour over notable joints.. wrist, upper arm, and shoulder.

Under it was a soft shirt of grey made of some sort of unique fabric, one he couldn't place himself.

His legs, too, seemed to be fashioned of metal in some parts. "Plasteel.. ?" He allowed the words to form on his tongue. The 'plasteel', too, covered vulnerable points of his legs on the pants, such as his knees, thigh, and near his foot.

Aside from that, he had black fabric covering his feet. Though the moisture from the grass underfoot had rendered them uncomfortable.

"Sense. Sight. Smell. Sound. Touch. Yet.. they feel foreign?" He adjusted the spectacles on his head. Strangely, he felt that his sight would not be impaired without the plastic-metal frame upon his head.

A scream brought him out of his stupor. Then he _looked._ On a hill 48 meters away, began a bold wall of metal. A fence, he told himself.

A bipedal creature in black fur forced itself through a crack in the fence, tearing it open further and further.

The creature was interesting. It's movements.. He recognized them. They were familiar. He could tell that he had seen them before. But he couldn't truly remember where from.

Smoke and fire bellowed out in the distance, beyond what he could see. Those creatures, of white masks and black fur, were attacking something. Judging by the scream from earlier, something alive.

A weapon materialized around his right hand. Instinctively he understood it's very composition, it's name, and what it was meant for.

In his hands, he held a most devastating weapon. A Torch Hammer.

His steps were mighty. His strides were long. Obtaining information was vital. Information, after all, was tantamount to victory. To know all was to win all.

With a simple thought, the weapon fired directly into the chest of the creature that had forced open the fence.

With a single second, it turned to nothing but dust and ash, then separated even further into nothing.

The creatures were besieging this small town. There were hardly fifteen buildings, and even less moving about, besides the shadowy creatures.

Strewn about were corpses, amazingly fresh. Bloodied and beaten, mutilated _playfully_. The very thought disgusted him. Brilliant, living, conscious beings. Perfected over years of hardship. Struggling against the Dark for far longer than he had ever lived... against creatures like himself.

That thought was unnatural to him. The village was rustic, with some semblance of modern technology.. Even then, it was visibly primitive.

A growl echoed through the silence, and he stowed away the thoughts.

The creatures were slow, their movements practiced. This one had more armour, and a slightly different shape, to the one he had seen.

The Torch Hammer raised.

A thought.

The shape fell, it's stomach hanging open.

Another bright, purple bolt caved in whatever remained of it's skull.

This action was repeated. There wasn't much of a 'pack' to begin with, but what little was there.. no longer was.

"Creatures that destabilize on a molecular level when significant force is applied, providing the illusion of dissipation. Strangely, no internal biological systems were noted upon opening of target bodies whilst alive." His voice had grown- no, it was merely that he finally noticed it. His voice was monotone. Completely flat. No emotion whatsoever.

He gazed over at one of the beings he had saved. All in all, there were, perhaps, seven survivors. A small village, to be sure.

He flicked his wrist, idly watching the Torch Hammer dissipate into nothing.

One of the survivors was holding a bloody stump that was once a right arm. He approached, murmuring a quick "It would be prudent for you to remain still." as he forced away the arm.

"W.. Wait! Hold on! Get the fuck back!" His shouting meant nothing. He held the arm away from the wounded stump, then used his free one to-

His eyes widened for a split second before he looked at the cybernetic palm he held to the stump.

What was he expecting to happen?

Abruptly, his palm began glowing. A bright orange light. Like a machine gun barrel, having not vented in a while.

A beam shot out from it. He felt the heat from it even as it was far from himself. He quickly had to cover the man's mouth, letting go of his hand.

Even then, the screaming felt loud in his ears. Thankfully, after only half a minute or so, the wound was cauterized and he let go.

One of his regrets, most definitely.

The brunette roared and thrashed, smacking and slapping at the taller man's face.

His glasses hit the ground with a crack. Red orbs met blue ones that quickly shrunk in fear.

"... Your wound has been cauterized. You have nothing to fear, especially not infection. It would be best if you kept pressure on it, regardless." He felt nothing as the man scrambled away, caring little for his panicked whimpers.

The layout of the village was simple. A large cast-iron fence around eight wooden shacks in a broad circle, with four supply-looking buildings.. warehouses and the like. The other three looked to be stores or something along those lines, with the stores being further away from the centre of the town , a large fountain.

Now broken, it seems.

"Who.. The hell are you?" He heard the cocking of a gun, and the voice of a woman. Her voice was ragged, and even without seeing her he could tell she was injured.

He kneeled down, grabbing the now-broken glasses and popping out their lenses. He didn't exactly need them, anyway.

Firmly planting them on his face, he turned over to see the woman.

She was garbed in what could only be described as a battle dress.

It was a long white dress muddied by dirt and battle, most likely. However, unlike his, most of it was also covered in steel plates.

She held a fairly bland pistol in the shape of what looked like a miniature Hand Cannon, an attempt to create a Sidearm version, perhaps?

Regardless, it was aimed at him. Blood _trickled down her metallic chin, her lavender eyes boring holes in his soul. "Wherever you're going. Stay there." The bullet shot throug- _trickled down the side of her face. She was barely standing.

She held herself up by sheer force of will and what looked like a musket with a bayonet that was far too large and seemed to be a part of the barrel.

"Talk." Her ferocious voice brought him out of his silence.

"I am unaware. I awoke mere moments ago, having the briefest of memories upon the outer edges of my mind-" She groaned aloud, before shouting;

"What's your fucking name, you asshole?!" It was quite clear to Panoptes she was stressed. However, as the creatures had been slain, he couldn't understand why she still was.

"Panoptes?" He stroked his chin. He wasn't too sure where the name came from, or how he knew it instinctively despite not knowing it before.. but he deemed that part unnecessary.

".. Hm. Yes. I am Panoptes. I wished to assist this settlement, so I used my skill-set to do so. Yes. That is all." He uttered the phrase like a mantra, murmuring his own title- not quite sure if it was his name or the former just yet- like it would help it.

"Hghh.. Fine.. Let me get one thing clear.." She stumbled over to him, having to use her weapon as a crutch merely to move. It was, in a word, pathetic. Though he wouldn't voice his opinion within earshot to her.

"If you harm a _single_ person here, I'll rip out your heart, and feed it to you." He assessed the threat. Due to his mechanical chest and body, he had no heart, so she couldn't follow through with the threat. However the threat seemed mostly metaphorical, a confusing statement he was used to, somehow.

"Comprehended. Would you like me to assist you with your wounds? Whilst I am not specialized for medical properties, my expertise would suffice to close such openings in your form." His question was sincere, though he himself was unsure how much of it was true.

"No, no.. I'm.. fine." Her breathing was heavy. _Within approximately 14 minutes of continued blood loss, she will die._ That thought made him uneasy, for some reason. What was the point of saving this settlement to let one of it's denizens die? So he voiced his concerns.

"You are most certainly not. In terms of lifespan, you would be quite lucky to fulfil any of your dreams within 14 minutes. 15 at best. If you would allow me to assist you with your wounds, this momentary time can be massively improved to the point where a trained medical professional may be able to fully heal you. Do you not understand that fact?" He noticed a slight edge in his tone. It was most certainly not his business if the woman wanted to die, but he would rather avoid that outcome than let it happen.

She scoffed and turned her head to the side. Panoptes found that incredibly immature. "... Regardless, it would seem that the settlers have elected to move on. I'd advise you to accompany them, in the scarce minutes you have left-" Once again he was cut off.

"Fine.. Just don't do anything weird. And it's Alice." The blonde seemed hesitant to provide her name at all, so he supposed that much he should be thankful for.

As it turns out, the residents had something they called a "Bullhead" that would transport them to the near city of "Vale." He had no recognition of either of such, though once his eye_, penetrated by the vicious Arc rounds of the Guardian before him, her LMG dropped and useless, ammo waste_ s laid upon them, he instantly made the connection to a Cabal Thresher.

Whilst simultaneously only having a vague image of what Threshers were, and only remembering a vague shape in regards to Cabal.

Idly, he wondered if there was worry to be had about his memory loss. Ideally he should remember the bare minimum about the world he had entered _ALT RLTYGEN INSIGNIFICANT. LOGGED FOR LATER/EARLIER/NOW. FUNCTIONAL WHEN SELF-APOCALYPTIC SCENARIO, AUTO. ADOPTION OF HIVELOGIC. WAYOFSWORD ASSISTANCE WITH SURVIVAL ACCEPTABLE PROGRESSION. REFORMAT APPLICABLE WHEN NEEDED._

..such as prominent landmarks and the like. Every time he felt those strange memories, it was like eating static, as strange as that sounded even to him.

The residents had entered quite hastily. A most likely hypothesis is that more creatures are soon to arrive.

Whilst it might have been cramped with the original amount of residents, the amount that remained would not even be enough to form a fireteam.. Though including the blonde woman who had called herself a Huntress, it was exactly six.

"Hey." spoke the one known as Alice. "What are you doing?" He spared her a glance, briefly shifting his legs in the cramped seating area of the Bullhead.

He had been staring out the window for some time now, gazing at the countryside hardly illuminated by the pale moonlight. "You looked like a lost dog with his tongue out, or something." continued Alice.

"Merely confusion. My memory fails me. How far until we reach this.. Vale?" Having already cauterized her wounds, as well as having her seen by what happened to be the doctor of the village, allowed the 'Huntress' to live long enough to reach 'Vale.'

Due to the fact that there was little Light to be found within the self-proclaimed Huntress, he found such a statement bold, and perhaps even a little immature.

In a battle, immaturity cost you everything. It was why he had never seen a Guardian emit positive emotions when faced with any of his-

"How strange." Panoptes mumbled, barely above a whisper. Perhaps below, rather. He had found himself quick to compare Alice to Guardians, due to the title of Huntress, which he related to Hunter Guardians, almost instinctively, much like some things he had compared automatically..

Yet that left him with another, quite glaring question.. Or two.

What are Guardians?

And what is the Light?

He noticed that the humans, besides Alice, had initiated some sort of power-down procedure, closing their eyes and halting their entire conscious ability to think for up to 12 hours.

A strange phenomenon.

Though he felt that his body was weary enough to partake.

_I DREAM A DREAM._

_Ende_

**A/N: Ey lads. So quite simply; I had an idea. I liked the idea. I wanted to do the idea. So I did it. This is PARTIALLY rushed, but it's hardly like I can't go back and improve it (like i'm CURRENTLY doing with The Two Paths, which will probably be out- at some point, haha, because if playing FGO and seeing Hans Christian Andersen react to the concept of deadlines has taught me anything, it's that saying 'oh yeah this piece will be out by x time' is tantamount to committing suicide by coffee.******

**Anyways, this is heavily inspired (or.. possibly in the same universe? I'unno, probably not, not like I asked. Whilst that'd be pretty cool I doubt it.) by Remnant's Unexpected Maidens, n I asked for Axios' permission to make this.**

**I'm not gonna make every boss that ends up here a girl though, not that that's necessarily a bad thing ;)**

**See you soon!**

**No I won't!**

**Y'see the joke is that my writing schedule is about as consistent as my luck in.. just about anything.**

**not very**

cya -lad lad 


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